The French revolution
by NyaPowa
Summary: - ABANDONNED - When I start freshman year, I was 20. I was also French and absolutely terrified. As my half-brother Ryan navigated me around the dorms, I clearly remembered that I was cursing my father, my mother and my stupid pride how got me into that… AU/OC - ABANDONNED -
1. Chapter 1

So, this is a new for me:

1. First fic in English. I am French, English is not my first language, so excuse all mistakes I have done

2. First fic about a TV show

3. Therefore, first fic about Greek. So that you know, Greek just started in France, on private channel. I happened to catch it while flipping round the channels, and I just love it! So far, I am in the middle of season 1…

Note about the fic:

1. Alternative universe. Set in the same time as 1st season, I am going to keep most of the events of the real TV show, but with some changes.

2. Alternative characters. Ryan Sullivan and Priscilla Serra are going to be the heroes. So that you know: Priscilla is not me. I am not half-American, I am not blond, and I am not a mechanic.

3. Speaking of which, I know absolutely nothing about cars and engine, so I am going to make up all the talking about it. Do not complain or so, I am not just interested by the subject, so unless you contact me with a correction, just don't bother. Same reason, here, about English grammar and so. You can beta read me, if you want…

Copyright; to whoever owns Greek… expect the Sullivan, the Serra and other made-up characters, who suck and are mine.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

When I start freshman year, I was two year older than the average freshman (or freshwoman) population. I was also French and absolutely terrified by the size of the campus and the crowd living here. As my half-brother Ryan navigated me around the dorms and other administrative counters, with me glued to his arms, I clearly remembered that I was cursing my father, my mother and my stupid pride how got me into that…

All started in May, just before the summer. I was graduating with my 2-years-French- mechanic-course. Yep, higher education in France is nothing like in the States, where college is more or less the only solution for diploma. In France, once you got your "Baccalauréat" (High School diploma, mandatory to keep on higher education) you got to choose between at least a dozen of "normal" paths, then add all the strange and uncommon ways to enter universities, private schools or specific programs.

Having grown with boys did turn me into a kind of tomboy. Not physically or fashion-like speaking. I do have plenty of dresses and an entire collection of lips glosses. It was more a state of mind; therefore, I was into mechanic. Well, my grand-pa and my uncle run a garage, so I grew up with oil and engine all around me. I also dominated the delicate art of being better at soccer than boys without bragging about it. Male ego… So, after a so boring but yet compulsory high school degree, my only wish was to help my family running this garage. Clearly, I was needed. My older cousin was not a manual; so instead, he went into accountancy, so he could help his father on the administrative side. My second cousin was the brain of the family, and was about to become the very first Serra doctor. The third cousin, who was about my age, was already working as a bakker. The fourth was just about to choose what he wanted to study, but it was clearly not mechanical engineering. So I was needed and I was happy about it.

Yes, for me, my future was set since I was 16. I whined and tried to get into a two-year alternate degree (one week in class, one week at the garage) but my mom wanted me to have a proper high school diploma. So I kept studying general matters and philosophical shit (no offense to those you enjoy philosophy). Once I graduated, I thought I would just join, but then my mother argued it will be 

better to have a proper degree in mechanical sciences. As she was paying for it, and as it was something that at least I enjoy, I went through this extra two years.

So here I was, at what English speaking countries would call "graduating ceremony". This was nothing as fancy as what they could think. The head of the department went and spoke for what I felt was hours, then we all received a piece of paper – the official paper being sent to us by mail… I was done and ready to get my hand dirty starting next day… when I saw my dad. And I knew something was wrong…

Not that I don't like my father. Hear me right, hum. It is just that…. Can two complete strangers be closer than my father and me? Totally yes. I have not seen him more than a couple a days at a time, during summer, if he managed to squish "seeing my half-French daughter" into his timetable. And I was in the States. So… what was he doing here, in France?

- " I wanted to congratulate you, of course!"

Right… Hello, I am 20, I can really see through you. What did he want? Or better… what did my mum ask him to do?

My parents are not married, were not married and will never marry each other, which is, I must admit, a benefit for humanity. I can't still not believe they managed to shut up and stopped arguing with each other enough time to… got busy and … produce me. So what? She was the hot foreign exchange blond French student, he was a joke and they hooked up. The summer flirt stayed a summer flirt, but instead of bringing back souvenirs and campus Swear-Shirt, my mom brought me back. Her only child. Hurrah! … Half-French, Half-American, loved without limit by mom, and financed without limit by my father. At least, my father legally recognized me…

Starting on my 6th birthday year, I was to spend a summer month with him. So, the real picture was that I would travel for 16hours in planes, arrived in South Dakota, in the middle of nowhere, where he had a ranch. And I would spend a month there, horse riding and other summer activities… Alone. Or at least, without my father. 'Cause I would have preferred alone rather than being with Ryan. This changed recently, but when we were young, gosh, we were hating each other.

Ryan is my younger 100 American half-brother. Yep, my father got married more or less at the same time I was born. Lisa Carpenter, a real daughter of good family. Well, there is not more to say, because clearly, Lisa and my dad are madly in love with each other, and she is even a great person! I mean, she never hated me and made me feel uncomfortable for being alive. I guess she really sees me as her daughter. So, Ryan, Lizzie and Kurt are my half-family. And as much enemies we were, Ryan and I grew closer to each other, once I realized he was as hurt as me from his father absence. He was also to spent summer in the ranch, instead of going fishing or camping or any father&son activities. He even thought I would steal the rare moment our father would dedicate to family, which was not true, so we made peace and started enjoying summer together.

Ryan is so adorable. Never told him I say that, but this is so real. First of all, he is a real hottie. He would not be my brother that I would be all over him. He could do with couple of more muscle pounds, but linear guys are not that bad. Well, looking at him and I understand why my mum got a summer flirt with my dad: tall, taned, green eyes (his mum's) and kinda curly dark chestnut hair. Anyways, he is handsome but also cool and not too stupid for a 18-year-old boy who just landed his first girl and graduated from high school.

Anyways, my father was here, to pick me up for summer. This is when I started guessing I would not become a mechanic at my uncle's garage. But summer at the ranch is so much fun, particularly if your father promised you nearly unlimited credits for a shopping hurricane at the nearest shopping center, that I agreed to it. South Dakota, here I come… again…

But when I arrived, Ryan was nowhere to see. I guess I felt what parents felt when the kids grow older and leave home. In fact, he came two days after me, all excited about the college he will go in September. He just had finalized his admissions and he spent the next five days to describe the campus, the dorm, the class and so on. To the point, I got even jealous:

- " I wish I could go too! That seems funny!"

- "But you can go, honey!" Surprised attack for Father, ambushed behind the door. Here was the trap. My mum was definitely against "me losing all my potential in being just a mechanic – which is not a thing to be shameful about – but which would be such a waste". So she talked my father into financing me an undergraduate program at Cyprus Rhodes University. And Ryan was so into it:

- "Come on, Priss, this is going to be great! You and I together. I will be the cutest joke and you will be the hot foreign babe!"

- "Half-foreign."

- " Do you need to go technical each time?"

- "But, this is the point. It is one thing to spend summer here, and another to spend four years. I don't even speak English?"

- "So what am I speaking? Russian?"

- "Ryaaaaan! I only got you because I am used to this cranky accent of yours! You can't possibly think I can follow class?"

- "Well, either you improve your English, or you cheat on the guy next seat. Or you take the same class as me and I can tutor you."

- "Marketing? Me? Have you been smoking?"

- "Marketing is great!"

- "You only say that because Dad is--."

- "Dad is into sales. Big difference"

- "If you say so."

Indeed, for me, Dad's job was… like magic… you speak and pfff, smoke and sparkles. To be honest, Dad is the General Regional Sale Manager. Or I think that the title he has. Anyways, he is responsible for all the sales points in the Central North States. Oooh, he is into medical stuff. That all I needed to understand. Ryan wants to study marketing, which is as blurry to me that philosophy was.

- "So what are YOU going to study?"

- "I never say I would go."

- "You know you will, so let's cut the chase."

Sometimes, I hate Ryan. He reads into me so easily. The bastard lays back into the long chair by the swimming pool and does this irritating smile. He knows I can't resist this smile. No girl can. Unless she is lesbian. But let's not go this way. So yeah, I had less and less arguments against this silly project. This would improve my English and open my options for future. And I will have to spend time with Ryan. And as I already got the degree I wanted, I could just… have fun and not study at all. And if it was really too hard, I would just drop out…

- "I am hesitating between mechanical engineering—"

- "Again?"

- "When you love, you don't count. So that or computer sciences"

- "Boooooring!"

- "So what?"

- "You can't go into engineering honors! This is for geek, and geeks are not cool!"

- "And what happen to the hot foreign babe?"

- "Half foreign."

- "Ryan, who is going technical here? Anyways, I would be the exception. I would be the not so stupid geek engineering blond."

Oh yes, I forget to tell you. I am blond… OK. Blondish. But natural blondish. Not highlight or anything. I got this for my mum, and I guess I have my boring brown eyes from Dad. And oh, my name is Priscilla Serra. It may be handful to know that later. At the end, I surrendered and I filled the forms, making me a new student at CRU, in mechanical engineering branch.

And before I know it, I was at there. Or here. At the campus, being pushed and yelled by people. Did I mention I was bad with accent? Well, this was worth. I saw people's lips moving, I heard sounds but… but…. ARGH! Why do they have to talk this fast without articulating? Ryan was my savior. He spoke for me, told me what to do, to the point I did not want to let him go, once we found my room. I was clenching his sleeves and was going for the puppy eyes trick when my roommate arrived. And Ryan took this as an excuse to go.

Nathalie was really sweet. In fact, she had as much problems with my accent than I had with her. But after a few tries, we kinda developed a complex language made of sings, English and sounds which was totally making sense to us. I learn she was also an engineering student, but in the electronic department. She knew everything about Cyprus Rhodes, because her older brother was junior year, so she was able to be my new savior. Following her sage advices and all her good lessons, I realized that the all floor was reserved for honors engineering girls, that we tend to been seen as uncool, which she and I was not. I also had a three-hour update on how to act and react, on social groups composition and so on. I told you, a life savior. And as she had really good figures, I told her she was my Baywatch pin-up. That how she became my best friend.

So life was not sooo bad, after all. Slowly, I pick-up the rhythm and people learn to articulate around me, as I improve my English. First classes were not too hard. I had issues with the technical terms, then Ryan saved me (again) by finding me those three antique technical dictionaries. There were moldy and quite smelly, but really helpful.

Speaking of Ryan. We saw each other regularly, and I knew how to go to his room from anywhere in the campus. I was quite popular on his dorm floor. Waa, I must say that marketing students are hot. Why can't I have the same on engineer branch? So, well, even if we were not all the time together, we always find time to see each other.

Like this day. We were to have coffee together. The summer was not gone, so I was waiting on a table outside, trying to concentrate on my compulsory reading. Then, next thing I knew was that he had sit in front of me, in a big flash of red (his T-shirt) and with a great "slam", put his bag on the top of my photocopies.

- "I have great news!"

- "Oh, what? Ryan, you are crushing my diagram!"

- "Sorry. I am going to rush!"

- "What? But you just arrived!"

- "No silly Frenchy! I am going to rush for a fraternity!"

- "What? Like in the movies?"

Fraternity does not exist as such in France. We have student societies, where people share common interests, but that is all… Flatsharing is common too, but people are friends and choose the house. The all Greek system does not exist for us, it is like "Baywatch" on TV, for us.

- "Yeah, like in the movie. You should join too."

- "A fraternity? But I am a girl!"

- "Dammit, Priss, don't play the dumb! Join a sorority!"

- "For what?"

- "For the parties…"

Here I must admit. I am not too much into parties. I mean, I am quite quiet and shy, and if I enjoy wine and alcohol, getting drunk as fast as possible and hooking up in the dark corners of the room is not my definition of fun. As far as hooking up went for me, my mum's experience put me out of it. So I was skeptical:

- "Yeah, right!"

Ryan knew he would not change my mind and dropped the subject. But he managed to mention it in front of Nathalie, who went all crazy:

- "Niiiiice! Ooooooh, you have to meet my big bro! He is in a frat too! He is even the Rush Chair ! Come tonight I am going to introduce you ! Priss, we are so going to rush together!!"

- "We are?"

- "Totally! This is going to be SO fun…"

… You get it, that is how I enter the Kappa Tau Gamma house for the first time of my life. Certainly not the last. Wade Mathews, Nath's big bro, was delighted to see us three. But to be honest, ΚΤΓ did not give me a really good impression on the Greek system. The party they throw instantly was wild and liquorish, to the point even Ryan got shocked. Well, ounce he saw the half naked chick, he felt better. I was really about to leave, when I met him… The one who changes my life….

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

I know it is short, but that the first chapter. If you like it and wants to know what happens, let me know by a comment. If not, I am just going to drop the all thing, and wait for the series to be famous in France and write it in French (which can be easier for me) Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Note about the fic:

- Alternative universe. Set in the same time as 1st season, I am going to keep most of the events of the real TV show, but with some changes.

- Alternative characters. Ryan Sullivan and Priscilla Serra are going to be the heroes. So that you know: Priscilla is not me. I am not half-American, I am not blond, and I am not a mechanic.

Speaking of which, I know absolutely nothing about cars and engine, so I am going to make up all the talking about it. Please, don't tell me this or that is wrong, because I will just not see the difference about correct and wrong… But you contact me with a correction. But please, don't make me write something stupid….

Same reason, here, about English grammar and so. You can beta read me, if you want…

Copyright; to whoever owns Greek… expect the Sullivan, the Serra and other made-up character, who suck and are mine.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Oki doki, so far I did not have any comments on my fic. Readers, I am not searching for the usual "great, keep on" (even if I like these very much). No! I need you, Natural English-speaking/writing/reading people, to give me your opinion on the quality of the work. Do you understand what I say? (What is the point for me to try hard and only produce a messy piece of paper that no one understands?) Do you like the ideas behind the story? (Understanding is not everything. So, do I keep the spirit of the TV show?)

Please, let me know if this is worth keeping twisting my brain (don't worry, it is already twisted. I mean, I am French, am I not?)

Now, place to the chapter….

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

I never believe in love at first sight. For me, this is just bullshit that tries to conceal sexual attraction. Love, to me, was a feeling based, yes surely on physical magnetism, but also deeper connections between likes and dislikes, political, musical and philosophical tastes and plans for future.

But you have to put this opinion in the light of my family history. My mom falling madly in love with my Dad during summer camp and getting pregnant before summer camp endend. My dad falling madly in love with Lisa the instant he saw her and getting her pregrant before she knew it…

So either I was doing a sort of teenager crisis, where you say the exact opposite to anything your parents told you, either you were just trying to put away the inevitable… That, me too, one day, I would fall madly in love with some random boy…

But…

Oh yeah, there is a "but". With me, there is always a "but". Call it the French contradiction. My grand-pa, my mother's dad, the car repairman, the one with good practical sense, told me this once "never judge a book by its cover". Or whatever version of the saying that is common by your place… So, between this and my genetic tendency to throw yourself at perfect stranger… I was done for…

In fact, I happened to find quite a good compromise between the two. You don't see how, clearly you are skeptical. So let me tell you how.

So, I was on my way out, back to my dorm, back to normality, where normal people don't find amusing to see someone fall into coma from too much booze. I was kind of in a hurry… Then I slip into something.

OK!. Survival rule number 1 at ΚΤΓ house: "if you can't say by just a look what it is, don't ask, don't search. Avoid it, or clean it." Wise paroles, believe me.

So I slip into a sort of liquid-ish unknown substance… Not really water, not really jelly…. Later on, I learnt it was a tentative to do raspberry jelly with vodka instead of water. Right… Could have been so much worse. Anyways, here I was, taking speed as I was sliding down the hallway, trying to stop myself in the same time I was getting ready for the soon impact with the front door…

Expect that, instead of slamming into the wood, I slammed into someone. Or something. It was definitely alive, but at this point, it could not qualify as human being. I present you the Unclassified Beaver. He was drunk and a smaller boy (and yet taller than me) was trying to relocate him into his own room.

As I splashed myself into the Beaver's chest, I felt his arms circling me and his slowed by abuse of alcohol voice yelled a thing like:

- "Hey, Cappie, I found a chick!"

Then he tried to kiss me.

Yerk. I didn't see much of this Cappie boy, but I remembered he tried to get Beaver out of me. Or more precisely, me out of the Beaver. But as drunk as he might be, the Beaver stayed the Beaver. As the inexorable kiss was getting closer, I had no choice but to come to last resources in these sorts of situations. I kneed him.

Or at least, I tried to. Me being just at the limit of petite, and him being kinda tall, I ended thighed him. So, my knee pushed hard in his muscles. Not as quite effective as in the balls, not still good enough to let him felt pain. He dropped me, I pushed (in fact, I slapped him) Cappie away, so that he finished under the Beaver who lost balance and felt on the top of unfortunate Cappie and I fled in the dark night…

First impression? So Bad…

Next thing I knew, Nathalie was shaking me up. I never understood how she could be so joyful on the morning, especially after only a few hours of sleep. But here she was, telling me every details of the party that I missed and, without even breathing, she kept on the Sororities presentations this afternoon.

- "Nath, I am not sure I will go" I announced the news during the half second interval between two monologues.

- "Why?"

- "Clearly, I am not sorority material. I am not a party girl. I just yesterday just boring."

- "That normal, it is the ΚΤΓ house!"

- "And?"

- "It is the worst house in campus. They are known for this wilderness and booziness. It is alright to have one night of fun with them, but this is it. If not, you are going to be seen as an easy girl. They are not the guys to hang out with."

- "But it is your brother's house!"

- "And I do love him, but on this particular point, we disagree."

- "So you are just going to ignore him?"

- "I will more try to lead him on a better way, like the ΩΧΔ »

- "Yeah, Ryan mentioned it."

- "Your brother sure has good tastes… Is he available?"

- "Nath! You can't possibly consider as boyfriend material!"

- "Why not?"

- "You are my best friend, and he is my brother. It will be like incest…"

-"Priss, did you drink or smoke something unusual yesterday?"

- "Roo, let's not go this way."

- "Only if you come to the event this afternoon. One tiny petite small afternoon."

- "I guess I can. It is only a couple of hours, right?"

So wrong of me. It took us the all morning just to get ready. No, I do not exaggerate…

When Nath and Ryan, the two most important persons on this campus told me they wanted to rush, I had to fight my first impressions about the Greek System. Two persons with who I share so much could not have something this wrong. There must be something more about frats than parties and elitism. So I went on the net and to the lib and I investigate the subject. Globally, about the Greek system, and locally, so that I knew more about CRU own environment.

What I am going to say now is my personal opinion. Mine. Opinion. Not all Frenchies think like this, and I absolutely don't say it is the one and unique truth. O.K? so, here I come…

There is something about the Americans, and American culture, that I truly find in the same time amazing and incredible stupid. The way they believe in "baddies will be punished" "happily forever for the good guys", how they think in terms of bad and good… It is idealistic, utopist, and made me dream it will come true, and laugh because it is so not real. French contradiction again… But I never meet and come across another country or cultures that do stand for the values that others would find naïve or childish…

So, I did understand where the spirit of "bro or sis forever" come from, even if it did not really deeply appeal to me. I wanted to believe in it, but I knew it would not be like this. It would be about parties, alcool, girls and boys looking down up to others. I mean, even between Greek Houses, rivalry was more than sparkling! So, I wanted to give it a try, even if I already knew the Greek system was not for me. I wanted it to please me, because this would mean my brother and my best friend were not superficial empty headed jokes or very meany and calculating braincases.

All that plus the fact that I really really felt the girls we were going to visit were more attracted to look than personality. Nath confirmed this very point when she decided that my outfit was clearly not good enough for the Zeta Beta Zeta sorority she was aiming for.

Since I have done some researches, I knew looks were important, so I did choose a simple beige dress with flat shoes. Not just a pairs of demine. I did pay attention to my hair and my make-up, but this was not "the style". I had to go through an all session of beauty and closet emptying before I was allowed to walk outside…

The worst thing was not that I felt a little ridiculous in this superb and foamy skirt, or had difficulties walking with my stupidly high heels. I kinda like myself when I saw my reflection. The worst was that I was just cancelled from the picture. I was just not good enough. Just because of this Rebecca Logan, who had nothing for her except the fact that she was the spoiled daughter of a rich senator. Nath was accounted for. After all, she is a real beauty, with her mix of Asian and European bloods, and her brother being an infamous ΚΤΓ. Me? I spent the all afternoon sitting in a corner of every house we came into. I did tried to engage conversation, to get friendly and have people noticing me, but I guess my French accent and my major was just not Greeky enough…

So I took it quite badly. In fact, I was mad. So furious about those precious Barbie girls judging me because I was able to fix an car but did not knew about Senator Logan. Hello? I am living in France, so… I mean, did they even knew the French President name? And this Rebecca girl? I may not know who her father is, but I certainly know who she is: an ass. A dickhead. One of this hypocrite, villain girls you saw on American sitcom and hate and laugh at because someone that bad is just not realistic. Well, I had all wrong on this point. The way she looked at me, when I asked her:

- "Well, more than the fact that you are your father's daughter, you are you?" as I wanted to know about her, not about her father's jet or her father's plans to donate to the sorority that would welcome her…

So I walked out. Again. I slammed the door, or the virtual door on the meaningless greek system. I would not be part of this. If Ryan and Nath found any interest it this, fair enough. I would not say a word. I would even come to their parties, that if, I am invited though.

I was on my way to my dorm, pestering and muttering in French. I do so love swearing in French. Much more words that no one undertand. And much swearing words. We can compile them, whereas in English "fuck you" is "fuck you"… Erf, let's not go this way…

And I was walking fast, infuriated by my own pride. Because, the worst of the worst, I thought I might have a chance, that indeed, I would find nice girls who wanted to be friends with me! Ah! Disillusions! So, it was more a stomping than a march, and have you ever try stomping with ridiculous high heel? Me neither. Happened what was supposed to happen: I tripped and feel on the grass. I had a growl of rage and just kicked the stupid shoes… then I realized they were Nath's… I was about to get up and search for it when:

- "OUCH! WHO THROW THIS SHOE? THIS IS DANGEROUS! FASHION KILLS!"

- "Eeer, I guess this would be mine"…

And from over the bushed, I saw a guy. A guy that I recognized. Because I recognized the house. The ΚΤΓ house… And of course, the blond-ish guy recognized me too :

- "Hey, what I have done to you? First you slapped me, then you try to impale my eyes with this object of feminine torture?"

- "How do you know that? It is not like you have ever worn high heels, hum?"

- "In fact, I did. I like it. It bust my ass. If I were not me, I would fall in love with my own ass."

OK…. I just met Cappie. Yep, Cappie the first, king of his own world.

I just stared at him, blinking my eyes, trying to sort out if he was joking or telling his truth…

- "So, young lady, what are you going to do?" he asked me.

- "I am going to take my shoe back, which is not mine by the way, and go back to my dorm that I should have never left."

- "I was referring to the slapping."

- "Well, it is not like you have ever been slapped, hum?"

- "I--."

- "You get over it. Give me my shoo back."

- "And the magic word?"

- "NOW!"

- "Excuse-me my French!"

Ahah, like this was the first time someone did this joke on me.

- "I HATE you."

- "Well, so do I. The name is Cappie, by the way."

- "I don't care what your name is. I hate you."

- "I understand this the first time you said it. Contrary to some French person I would note named, I am polite. And I prefer hating someone with a name. But I guess you could not get this? Am I speaking too fast?"

Here I was. More furious than furious? Totally possible. Give Cappie and I two minutes in the same room. I grabbed my shoe from his hand and turn back with all the dignity I had in me…

Or this was my plan. Because I just scrambled after the first step. Not only I still had one ridiculous high heel shoe one, but I had twisted my other ankle. And I was stepping on the ΚΤΓ garden.

Survival rule number 2 for the ΚΤΓ house. "Never foot naked. This would prevent any collateral damages with any unidentified substances on the floor."

In my case, it was just a marble. Under my ridiculous high heel shoe… So I fell like a potatoes bag and Cappie tried to stabilized me and we just ended together on the floor.

- "You ok?" That was nice of him, but he could have spared his saliva. Obviously I was not OK, judging by the blood on my lips and my already swollen ankle. And maybe the bit of bone that was sticking out the skin… or just the blood pooping out the hole made by the bone… "EMERGENCY HERE!"

I kinda collapsed at this point, which, I hope, you would find comprehensible. I must say that the guys acted really nice. Wade who recognized me too, called his sister who called Ryan. Meanwhile, I had two FULL glasses of unknown alcohol, as pain killer, because the ΚΤΓ did not have any. Did I mention that I was not a real big fan or parties? Right. Then, as a logical consequence, I did not have a great tolerance to alcohol. Two full glasses was only what it took to bring me down. At this point, I was just delirious… in French, that no one understood at ΚΤΓ. So they were just running around like headless chickens searching for the babies chickens…

Then, The Beaver came and pick me up, to carry me to the Brachiosaur. Well, at this very moment, I did not it was the Brachiosaur. We were going to the hospital, and that was the important thing. But more important was what I was feeling at this very moment. Pain, sure… Yeaaah, do I have to remember you I had a open fracture? Numb, because of the alcohol. As some react to alcohol by being overly happy or violent, it just made me sleeply and childish…

But the more important thing was the pure bliss and calm I was feeling. As Beaver closed his arms around me, holding me near his massif chest, I fell in love. It was not the kind of love you thought it was. There is love and love, passionate love and just this incredibly feeling of warmth, protection, well-being. His arms were the exact place I should have been all my life. It was like finding a long time lost brother. I was home… Or maybe it was love, and my genetic background was catching up with me. I don't know. I still don't. But this is where all begun…

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

So here we are, chapter 2… I cannot promise regular update, it takes me long to write in English. But well, I will do my best for a chap per month.

And to answer THE question – even if it is obvious now – this story is not a CappiexOC story. It is a BeaverxOC story – or kind of x story. Cappie will have his role, but I am more interested into the background of Greek than Greek itself.

Last comment: about the opinion on American/right/wrong. I truly believe it is wonderful that a country does promote and believe such notions of equality, justice and happiness. I do. And I do not laugh at it. Frenchies are more pessimistic than optimistic, so I guess you, American, are our counterpart.


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